i can relate to max too much lmao. specifically bc i too get nauseous very often for no good reason. took way too long to get diagnosed with MCAS, which ended up being the main cause of my chronic nausea issues. antihistamines are a fucking godsend, work better than zofran it’s crazy.
but yeah, every time i eat anything i feel all gross it’s greaaaaat
Hi Shark!
What would be MCAS?
I've had so many people ask me for a formal diagnosis for Max, but I truly dont have any, he's just plagued with the horrors. Antihistamines tho??? INSANE
Granted I think I was given phernergan for nausea once? So that tracks!
Some people will never understand the experience of being 13 in the 2000s and desperately looking up different versions of “fat,” “belly,” and “big belly” on Deviantart.
Anon that requested the person trying to hide their sickness here. Max is always the person I have in mind lol……
Combining this ask with the one that asked for gassy Max 👀
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Wine and Dine
He was sweating.
Max felt ridiculous, wiping his palms on his jeans and shifting on his foot. He was standing in front of the classroom, watching the kids perform a dissection on their frogs — a bit archaic, but oh well, he had gotten permits from the parents and the school board, the kids were excited — and trying to ignore the growing pain in his middle.
It wasn't his usual nausea after lunch, organ working hard at churning a meal and deciding if it was going to reject it. He hadn't even eaten lunch yet, because he had woken up late as hell and all but bolted out of the door. On his way out he had picked the first clothes he managed to get his hands on and now Max could feel it. His jeans were cutting into him, did he grab too small a pair?
Had he gained weight during the cabin trip?
His day dragged. Twice he had run across Vince, once in the teacher's lounge, once in the hallways and during both times Vin had frowned at him, a little wrinkle of concern forming between his eyes. Max didn't want Vince to fret about him, at the very least not in front of their other coworkers, so he did his best to avoid the other man going forward.
By the time the day ended, he was feeling downright claustrophobic. Max wanted to crawl out of his skin and he opened his jeans as soon as he got inside his car, letting out a relieved sigh and tugging on his shirt to cover up the fact his belly was poking out from his boxers.
His phone buzzed.
Leo: Can you pick up a bottle of wine on your way over? Red, doesn't matter the brand it's for cooking.
Uh-oh, he had forgotten. Max let out a groan, leaning his forehead on the steering wheel and wincing. Leo's dinner party had totally slipped his mind.
The blonde had mentioned it about a day after they came back from the cabin and he was really excited, apparently it was the first dinner party he was ever throwing for his coworkers. Max had no idea why he had been invited, but Leo had glared daggers at him when he mentioned passing on the invitation, making it clear it was not optional.
There was a tap on his window, startling Max. He jumped on his seat, a bubble of gas went up and he had to press a fist to his mouth to muffle a burp, in case it was a student or worse, a student's parent.
He shouldn't have bothered, it was just Vince, clutching his helmet with one hand, the other one tapping Max's glass window.
"What?" Max rolled it down, but didn't make any move to open the car door.
"Are you okay?" Vince frowned at him, "you've been looking kinda pasty since morning."
"Peachy," Max shrugged and Vin let out a scoff, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, right..." He looked around, leaning an elbow on Max's rolled down window, "do you want to grab something to eat?"
God, fuck this guy. Max knew, objectively, that Vince was being friendly, not flirty — At least not this time, he had apparently gotten the hint during the weekend trip that Max was not feeling very "rebound fuck after the worst heartbreak of my life"-y — but that didn't stop him from feeling exposed, like a raw wire.
"I can't, I got Leo's thing tonight."
"Oh yeah, the party I have not been invited to," Vince pouted and Max chuckled.
"Yep, that one. I can't do anything if Leo likes me more."
Vince let out a huff, a smile tugging at his lips, "tell Leo he's on my shit list."
"Will do," Max nodded, turning his key and starting his car, to hint at Vince to step back. He didnt.
"Are you sure it's smart to go, you're really looking rather ill..."
"I'm not sick," Max planted his hand on Vin's arm, starting to shove it away from his window, since Vince was adamant on ignoring his subtlety, "lunch didn't agree." A little white lie.
"You had lunch? I didn't see you at the cafeteria-"
"I ate in the classroom, had papers to grade," a second little lie, Max was feeling increasingly frustrated. He wanted to be gone already, he still needed to shower and change, buy the dumb wine Leo wanted. His belly was feeling really unsettled, maybe he could try using the bathroom too, if Vince just got the hint and let him go.
"Are you avoiding me?"
"God, no," Max successfully shoved his arm off his window, "I gotta go."
"Okay," Vince blinked those sad cow eyes of his at him and Max pressed his lips in an unimpressed line. He hated how much of an effect it had.
"I'm not avoiding you, idiot," he shooed Vince, "I am late and gotta go. Scram."
Vince's face got all wrinkly as it opened a lopsided smile and Max shooed him with renewed intensity.
"Have fun at the party," Vin finally waved at him, putting his helmet on as he walked back to his motorcycle.
All the while Max drove back home, his stomach was grumbling and churning, sending up a string of bitter belches that kept fizzing out in the back of his throat.
He bee-lined to the bathroom, once inside his apartment, and collapsed on the toilet, trying to make his stomach feel better. Cold sweat broke over him and Max groaned, rocking back and forth as a bunch of little cramps erupted on his lower belly, but nothing came out. Not even a fart.
He fanned himself, stripping his shirt and throwing it to the side, as he stepped out of his jeans. When he got up, the nausea spiked for a split second, enough he whirled around to gag over the water, but nothing came up.
He took a decently long shower, hoping the warm water might help, then wrapped the towel around his hip and walked into his bedroom.
Jonah had texted him a dress code, just in case Max didn't have enough common sense to know he should be more or less put together to meet Leo's coworkers. It was both offensive and incredibly funny. Max had texted back a thumbs up and a middle finger.
He picked his most plain pair of jeans, not because he wanted to acquiesce to Jonah's wishes, but because those were the only ones that actually closed around his waist. To pair with it, Max dug out a white henley that he was sure belonged to Vince and had no idea how it had ended up in his apartment. It hung very loosely on his frame, which was a relief as any of his shirts for sure would've hugged his bloated belly.
Max combed through his hair, then grabbed his wallet and keys and was out of the door once again, to buy Leo's wine.
"Ooh, thanks," Leo beamed, as soon as he opened the door of his and Jonah's apartment, "you're a life sa- Is that Vin's?"
Dammit.
Max's cheeks burned and he shrugged, "is it?"
Leo squinted at him, seeming puzzled by the shirt, "you tell me..." he walked back into the kitchen and Max followed up until the counter that split his kitchen from the dining room. It had three stools next to it and he perched on one of them, planting his elbows on the counter and staring down at his feet. There was a horrible blubbering happening right under his ribs.
"Are you two hooking up again?"
"What?" Max raised his head quickly, squeezing the counter when it caused him to feel dizzy.
"You and Vince?" Leo had a black apron protecting his baby blue shirt and his sleeves were rolled up. His cheeks were red from the heat coming from the pan and Max's mouth watered at the smell of garlic and onions that raised when the other man started to pour wine inside one of them.
"God, no," he shook his head, "no, it was just lying around my place. McDreamy told me to come dressd up, this was the only shirt I have without skulls on it."
Leo pursed his lips, seeming annoyed, and Max frowned, confused.
"You don't believe me?"
"No, I believe you," Leo shrugged, then beamed as JD came to slither between his legs, "look who crawled out of her hiding space..."
Max tried to ignore the growing unsettledness in his middle, watching as Leo baby talked JD, all the while trying to shoo her away from the kitchen.
He got up, crouching down to let the cat sniff his fingers and then petting her. Max truly did like JD, even if cats weren't his favorite. She was such a beauty queen, blue eyes staring up at him as she plated her front paws on his knee.
"You're so pretty..."
"Oh, hi Max," Jonah said, walking down the hallway, perfume trailing with him. His hair was perfectly styled, the curls popping, and he was wearing a deep maroon button up with dark dress pants, "this smells great, baby-"
"Did you text Max what he should wear?" Leo's voice was clipped and Jonah seemed taken aback. Max moved away from the kitchen floor, bringing JD with him, eyes glued to the couple, "what the fuck, Jon?"
"I was just making sure he didn't turn up looking like he's part of a garage band!" Jonah cried out and Max let out a snort, flipping him off.
"I do not look like I'm part of a garage band."
"So what if he did?" Leo scoffed, "I don't want my friends pretending to be who they aren't."
"You're making a big deal out of nothing, baby," Jonah pressed a kiss to Leo's temple, chuckling when the blonde promptly shoved him off by the stomach, "Max isn't offended."
"Yes, I am," Max smiled from ear to ear and Jonah glared him to pieces.
"That's not the point," Leo pouted, then popped something in the oven and set up the timer, "don't do this again."
"I won't," Jonah vowed, while Max tried his best not to laugh.
He moved to the balcony of the apartment in order to smoke, watching as Jonah and Leo bickered and set up the big dining table. He'd never quit smoking if this was the only thing that allowed him some privacy.
Alone in the balcony, he took advantage of the fact the wind was blowing hard and forced out a deep burp. It got muffled by a soft song that was playing inside the apartment and brought a sliver of relief to his stomach. His hand twitched, wanting to clutch his sore abdomen. He had no idea how he was supposed to have dinner on such an upset stomach.
"Put that out," Leo poked his head outside, glaring at Max's cigarette, "they're here."
The first one to arrive was Dean, a coworker of Leo's whom Max vaguely recalled seeing at the wedding. He was tall and skinny, with brown hair and pale skin, really brown round eyes and covered in moles.
Definitely the clown of the outfit, as he had brought over not only a bottle of wine as a bottle of José Cuervo tequila, which made Jonah's nose wrinkle with distaste and Leo snort.
"How are you doing, man?" Dean squeezed Max's hand, all smiles.
After Dean arrived, it was Sandy. She was gorgeous and Max thought it was very funny it hadn't occurred to Leo to mention one of his coworkers was a smokeshow and single. Leo probably had completely forgot that Max was into women as well.
Either way, not only he was feeling too crappy to flirt, but Sandy and Dean immediately were giggling together, teasing Leo about the table setting and the fact he had gone all out, and Max got it.
He was lurking near the couch, as glasses were passed around, trying his best to be participative on a small conversation that had started about travelling when the door opened again and in came Wendy.
Max's heart skipped three whole beats, so badly that he choked on air and when he tried to catch his breath he ended up burping in his glass. Dean, standing next to him, chuckled and patted his back.
"You good?"
"Yeah, sorry-" Max tuned him out completely, taking Wendy in.
Things hadn't been awkward between them since the breakup, because things had been nonexistent. Ever since he had moved out, Max hadn't seen Wendy even once.
After he had signed his lease, a couple days before the breakup, he had very little to pack at Wendy's place and he had left on the day after the final blow. Ever since, they hadn't crossed paths.
She looked... Different. Skinnier, much skinnier, but still just as beautiful. Wendy was clad in a mossy green mini dress that made her eyes pop and her hair was ruffled and messy, waves falling over her face.
They locked eyes and her face turned into that strawberry shade he loved, eyes widening. She turned to the side, a little frantic and then Jonah blocked his view by stepping in front of Wendy.
"I'm so sorry," Leo whispered, spawning from the ground next to him and causing Max to jump. Dean threw them a funny look, smiling, "I had no idea Jon had invited her, otherwise I'd have told you."
"It's fine," Max forced out, past the lump in his throat. There was something burning in his stomach, bile or anger or longing.
"I'm sorry," Leo whispered again, then perked up as two other people walked inside the apartment.
"Oh Chuck's here!" Dean announced, causing Sandy to slap his arm in a fond way.
"Do you always gotta be so loud?"
Chuck was stripping his jacket and taking his wife's as well. He was a shorter guy, shorter than Max, with a stocky build and longish brown hair, warm brown skin and almond eyes. In front of him there was a woman, dark hair down to her shoulders and two pins holding it back, clad in black skinny pants, over the knee boots and a bright yellow top...
"You!" Emerald exclaimed, circling Chuck and stepping closer. Max' eyebrows jumped, not expecting to be recognized, "it's uhm- Max, right?"
"Have you two met?" Leo asked, walking closer to plant a kiss on Emerald's cheek, both coats now thrown over his arm so he could put it back in the guest room that had been converted into a cloakroom.
"Just in passing," Max smiled, taking her in. She wasn't wearing any makeup and there was a little cut on her cheek, "she saved my life."
"I'm known for doing that, yeah," Emerald grinned at his overt exaggeration, "I take it she liked the flowers?"
From the corner of his eye, Max could see Wendy had moved from her frozen position by the door and was now being introduced to Chuck by Jonah.
"She loved them," Max nodded, "although I think she liked the gift card more."
"Who did you get flowers for?" Leo sounded confused and Max opened his mouth to answer, but got interrupted by Emerald exclaiming:
"Oh my God! Wendy, right?"
"Damn, I think this is Em's dinner party now," Chuck laughed, while Wendy blushed, leaning in to greet the other woman.
"How did you two meet?" Jonah voiced Max's thoughts.
Wendy shrugged, eyes downcast and none of that social butterfly Max knew she could be, while Emerald was blissfully unaware as she said, "she helped my friend out the other day. Did he ever say thank you? Because really, thank you. Chris can be such a pain, but he was in no shape to be alone, I'm so glad you stepped up."
Who the fuck was Chris?
Max frowned, wanting to grill Wendy, but Jonah thankfully beat him to it by saying, "Lavin? Chris Lavin? What- When-"
"It wasn't a big deal," Wendy finally spoke up, seeming uncomfortable, "Chris was sick as hell while in the same restaurant as me and I just helped him to his apartment, that's all."
"You're underselling yourself," Em scoffed, "other people would've ignored it."
Wendy's cheeks were crimson at the compliment, while Jonah still had his eyebrows raised in disbelief. Max just didn't like being out of the loop.
"Wait, Chris we met at your place the other day? The one with the eyebrows?" Dean asked and Emerald nodded eagerly.
"Yep!"
So they were all friends, uh?
Max's eyes moved from Wendy, to Leo, who seemed to be struggling to understand something, eyes shining as he pieced things together. It was quite a sight, Max had to admit, observe Leo use that analytical brain of his.
Nevertheless, he didn't seem to reach any conclusion and soon they moved away from the topic as the timer went off in the kitchen and Leo urged everyone to sit down.
Max didn't want to sit down. Not only because he had been more or less able to ignore the bloating while standing and certainly wouldn't be when sitting down, but also because through sheer luck Wendy ended up next to the only empty seat, which obviously was his.
Trying not to show his hesitance, Max sat down next to her and pointedly avoided looking at her, as Wendy did the same.
"So," Emerald was sat in front of him, averting her eyes from where Leo, Chuck and Dean bickered, "what do you do, Max?"
"I'm a teacher," he answered, then squirmed on his seat as the pants started cutting him in half. He slid a finger between it and his bloated belly, curling the fabric of the shirt around his thumb and shoving it in the little gap. It didn't make it any looser, but at least there weren't the sharp jeans edge against him.
Emerald was still watching him, probably waiting for him to elaborate. Shit. He was no good at small talk, "uhm- At Welton Hall? I teach Chemistry and Biology."
"Ooohohoh," Em perked up with a chuckle, which caused Max to look at her puzzled and Chuck, who had been overhearing their conversation, to lean in and explain.
"Em is a scientist herself," he said, looking lovingly at his wife, "she collects nerds like she collects rocks, be careful."
"I'm not a nerd," Max mumbled, but he was smiling. Next to him, Wendy let out a little huff. So much for not paying attention, uh?
"He went aaaall out," Dean's voice cut through their conversation, overjoyed, "I didn't know you knew how to cook like that!"
"It's not that hard to make ossobuco," Leo scoffed, "I know how to read a recipe, that's all."
"Dean can't relate, he doesn't know how to read," Sandy teased him, causing the other man to let out a dramatic shriek and clutch at his chest.
"Sandra! You wound me!"
Max snorted, caught Em's eyes and she wasn't looking at the end of the table, instead she was studying Wendy as if the other woman was a bug under a microscope. It made something protective and ugly stir in Max's stomach, but he gulped it back down. He was all over the place.
"What even is ossobuco?" Max asked, which he immediately regretted, as Leo decided right then and there that Max needed to be the first one to taste.
Ossobuco apparently was a piece of steak that still had the shin bone in the center of it. It was slow cooked with a bunch of vegetables, red sauce and wine and served with some sort of gooey yellow thing that Max poked at, suspicious.
His stomach stirred and the last thing he wanted was to take a bite, but there were seven pairs of eyes on him and well...
"It's really good," Max mumbled, although he was barely chewing. He gulped it down, took a sip of water to rid his mouth of the taste. It was watering for all the wrong reasons.
"If it's Max approved, then I've won the night," Leo beamed, then started plating the rest of his guests. He seemed to be over the moon, Jonah apparently more than happy just starring at Leo and making sure no glass was ever empty.
"That's polenta," Wendy leaned in to whisper to him, as Max poked the yellow mass once more. He couldn't stop eating so early in, but the meat was completely out of question. Just the smell of it was making him want to gag, "its basically just corn meal porrigdge."
He turned to look at her, not realizing Wendy would be that close and his nose nearly brushed with hers, causing her to jump back. There were golden flecks all over her lids and he could tell part of her pink cheeks was actually makeup. She looked terribly pale underneath all that.
"Hi," Max said and Wendy opened a tentative little smile.
"Hi," she gestured to his plate, "polenta should be safe."
Yeah, not tonight. Not even rice would be safe, he felt like an over inflated balloon. His belly let out a growl, he squirmed once again to try and find a comfortable position.
"Thanks," Max nodded, let his eyes linger. He had forgotten how pretty Wendy was, "uhm- How are you...?"
"Fine," she said a little too quickly, pushing her fork around, "you think we could talk?" her voice was hardly a whisper and Max nodded, gestured to the balcony with his head.
"Smoke break in a bit."
Wendy's lip upturned as she nodded, "you really have got to quit that."
"Yeah yeah yeah," Max waved her off, attention returning to his dish.
He could tell Emerald was incredibly interested in the two of them. If it was out of genuine desire to meet new people or just curiosity, Max didn't know, but the woman kept asking them questions all throughout dinner.
She also was an open book, volunteering any information. Apparently she worked in the city hall, was a geologist and a transplant in Welton.
"So are both of us," Wendy said, gesturing to Max and her and it made something flutter in his stomach. A passing reference to why he had moved to Welton in the first place.
Nowadays it seemed like forever ago, but it wasn't, not really.
"I moved here in 23, Max just got here at the start of the semester."
"Oh, where are you from originally?"
Emerald herself was from Michigan. Her family- Max completely tuned her off, because his stomach chose this moment to flip. He pulled back hastily from the table, mumbling an "excuse me."
Hopefully the rest of them were too enthralled with something else to notice him.
Max abhorred the fact that the guest bathroom was so close to the dining room. A belch escaped as he undid his jeans and sat down on the toilet, so gross and frothy that he quickly leaned to the side to grab a trashcan.
Some reddish saliva fell on top of the papers and he squeezed his eyes shut-
The music turned a little louder.
God bless Leo Wagner-Banks.
His intestines gave out.
Max's eyes prickled with tears as the cramps wrecked his body, knuckles curling around the edge of the bin as the nausea increased and then receded, increased and the receded....
He felt so so sick. More saliva flooded his mouth and he spat in the bin, working up a frothy burp in an weak attempt to get some relief. His stomach muscles were exhausted from the cramping and he felt weak and humiliated.
Max rubbed a hand over his face, putting the bin down and closing his eyes, tipping his head back against the flush. He crossed his arms and under them, he could just feel his stomach gurgling and churning.
He muffled another burp, staring at the ceiling.
"I'm not puking," he whispered to no one, trying to make it a reality. His stomach whined, loud enough Max managed to hear over the music. More cramping and more diarrhea. His throat bobbed up and down as another wave of nausea washed over him. His mouth tasted like rotten wine.
"Not puki'-" He couldn't even finish his chanting, his mouth struggling to shut. A chill went up his spine, on Max was too familiar with, "ah fuck," he grabbed the trashcan from the floor, hugging it to his chest just as his dinner came up.
Ossobuco sucked, Max decided, as more red sludge fell inside the bin and his whole body shuddered. His belly was taut and painful. He wanted to lie down, get out of these clothes...
There was a knock on the door, soft and barely there, "Max?" Leo's voice travelled, "dude?"
"I'll be right out..." He gulped down, his voice hoarse.
It wasn't right out, because it took him forever to clean up and by the time Max did stumble out of the bathroom, his face was dampen after having just washed it on the sink and he knew there was no way he'd be able to feign normalcy for the rest of the dinner.
Leo wasn't right in front of the door, thank God, but he caught Max's eyes as soon as he stepped out.
Dean was keeping most of the conversation, which Max very thankful for. He kept his eyes on the ground and pretended he couldn't feel everyone looking at him-
Wendy's hand found his thigh, as soon as he sat down. Leaning into his space, "are you ok?"
He nodded, but Max knew he had to get going. His reprieve wouldn't be long lived.
Wendy frowned, thinking his answer over.
Emerald, sitting in front of them, was carefully pretending she wasn't overhearing every word. Max planted an elbow on the table and cradled his face. He needed to go home now, if he infected Leo's guests with a flu, Leo would never forgive him.
"I think I gotta go."
"Okay," Wendy nodded, "I'll drive you."
It wasn't exactly an offer, more of an order, but fuck if Max wasn't thankful. Awkwardness and conflict aside, this still felt like Wendy. Wendy who had seen him sick before, who had seen him naked before. He felt comfortable with her and, perhaps some sort of betrayal to the others, he still trusted her.
"Okay."
They both got up and Max didn't really have it in him to say goodbye to all of Leo's coworkers, so he just walked to the front door, watching as Wendy moved through the whole lot of them and did it for the both of them.
Probably for the best, he had no idea if he was contagious or not.
"I can drive Max, you stay and enjoy the party," Jonah offered, walking alongside Wendy, her coat thrown over his arm. Only then did Max realize he had never stripped his brown jacket.
Maybe he was feeling worse than he had realized.
"No, it's all fine, Jon," Wendy tiptoed to press a kiss on his cheek, wiping away the bright red mark, "thank you for having us."
"Of course," Jonah smiled at her and when he did look at Max, his smile was oddly genuine, "feel better, Max."
"Thanks," he smiled back, ignoring the horrible nausea already starting to mount once more, "tell Leo I'm really sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for, he'll be more pissed you jeopardized your health than anything else," Jonah waved him off, "I gotta head back, safe drive."
They waved and walked out of the apartment.
"Keys," Wendy stretched out her hand and Max promptly dropped his car keys on it, quietly walking alongside her as they left the building through the garage.
His white pick-up was parked near the park that was right in front of the building and Max shivered violently. Was the night really cold or was he running a fever?
He sat collapsed on the passenger seat, watching wordlessly as she fiddled with his driver seat in order to fit her.
Max' stomach rolled and he muffled a burp in his hand, leaning his head back with a groan. He could feel a pressure at the base of his throat, a heaviness to his jaw that he knew well.
"Can we just go?"
"Sorry," Wendy mumbled, moving hastily and strapping her seatbelt, starting to drive, "are you sick or is this something else?"
"Cursed," Max groaned, eyes still squeezed shut. Wendy didn't laugh, not understanding it had been a joke, "I have no idea, my stomach's a mess, but I'm also really cold-"
He didn't get to finish his sentence before Wen's knuckles were brushing against his cheek, the back of her hand pressing to his forehead, "I don't think you have a fever, you seem overheated, but not overtly so."
"Hmmm," he curled an arm protectively against his belly as the car swayed a little bit with Wendy's movement. A burp gurgled up and Max blew it off under his breath, shuddering as he could taste dinner.
He tugged on the front of his shirt as the warmness started to spread, burning his stomach. Max fished a plastic bag out of his glovebox, glad that he kept his car stockpiled for all belly related issues. The perks of having the most little bitch stomach of all time.
"Should I pull over?" Wendy asked, noticing as he opened a plastic bag on his lab.
Max shook his head, digging into his side, "n'uh- Not yet..."
The nausea was present, of course, but not tipping him over the edge just yet. He pressed his forehead to the dashboard, taking slow breaths, "so..." Max let out a little burp at the end of his sentence, "you wanted to talk alone..? We're alone."
Wendy let out a humorless huff, "not how I envisioned this happening."
Max snorted, opened the glovebox again in search of his bottle of pepto, "start talking, Wen."
There was a split second of silence, interrupted by his stomach letting out a nasty growl. They stopped at a red light, his hand closed around the plastic bottle but when Max raised it he realized it was empty. Great.
"I just- I wanted to apologize..."
"Oh, I heard you're doing the shame rounds," Max teased her, rolling down his window even though it was a pretty chilly night, "you don't have to apologize, Wendy."
"No, I do," she glared at him, "I do. I made you uproot your life, I caused this big disaster and then I left you in the middle of it, with no support whatsoever, not a care about your feelings. If there's one person I need to apologize to, it's you."
"I'm not a child, Wendy," Max rolled his eyes, rubbing his face, "you didn't make me move here, I wanted to. I'm happy I did, I love my job here, I'm making friends... Well friends that I don't wanna fuck," he pointed out with a sly smirk and it caused a tiny smile to tug at her lips, he counted it as a win, "I've got a place that's not super cramped and dark, I have a pet... I'm happy. If anyone got left in the nuclear waste, that was you."
"Well, I caused it, so..." Wendy shrugged and Max's stomach curdled with despair when he realized he could see her collarbones now. She wasn't skin and bones, far from it, but the plumpness he loved was gone, her cheeks sucked in, her eyes surrounded by dark circles that no amount of makeup could conceal.
"You did," Max agreed, "but I-" he got interrupted by his stomach spasming, a sudden wet burp causing him to fold and gag over the bag. All thoughts vanished, his stomach squeezed again and a mouthful of red sludge fell in the plastic bag. It hurt, was too chunky.
He gagged again and again, blindly reaching to get rid of his seatbelt as it squeezed his middle and when Max thought he might pass out from all the heaving, it eased up, the glitters in his sight vanishing.
The blonde bunched up the top of the bag, leaning his head back and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. All his limbs were heavy, he was dizzy and spent.
"Are you done?" Wendy's voice was gentle and he felt her thumb stroke his cheek. Max let out a deep sigh.
"For now..."
"Give me the bag, I'll dispose of it and get you some water."
He opened his eyes, confused, and realized they were parked in front of a gas station, with a convenience store attached.
"Do you need anything else? More pepto?" Wendy asked, gesturing to his empty bottle. Max nodded, regaining some of his dignity and will, and patted his pockets.
Shit, he had left his cigarettes at Leo's.
"Can you buy me a pack of camels? I left mine at Leo's."
Wendy scrunched up her nose in distaste, but she nodded, "yeah, be right back."
As soon as she was done, taking the now tied sick bag with her, Max got out of the car. He leaned heavily against it, spitting the awful taste in his mouth on the tarmac and enjoying the cool air, instead of the car's stuffy one.
His head was pounding, he could feel a vein pulsating on his forehead, and his stomach was still testy with nausea and sore as if he had done a thousand abdominals. Still, Max felt better than he had five minutes before.
"Here," Wendy handed him the whole plastic bag and he fished through it. Pepto, a bottle of water, chewing gum, a pink lighter and camels. She had gotten the type right too, camel blues. It brought the conversation they were having back to his mind.
"Thanks," he gulped down the water, thumping his chest to work up a burp, then opened the pack and lit up a cigarette, expecting Wendy to wave her hand dramatically in front of her face.
Instead, she jumped up to sit on the hood of his car and patted his arm, "gimme one?"
Max's eyebrows raised all the way to his hairline, "a cig?"
"Yes," Wendy seemed confused by his confusion, looking at him expectantly. He scrambled, fished out a cigarette and passed it to her, then lit it up as Wendy put it between her lips and leaned in to touch the tip of it to the flame. She did that too well.
"Were you a smoker?"
"When I was a teen," Wendy took a drag slowly, holding it in, but coughing lightly as she let the white smoke out, "then later it became just when stressed... Then I quit completely a little after I moved here."
Max hummed, planting his elbows on the hood, "I smoke since I was fifteen."
"That's nothing to gloat about," Wendy huffed, her knee touching his elbow as she pushed him in a playful manner, "are you actually happy? Or are you just saying that?"
"No, I am," that came out so easy, he was shocked by it, "I'd do it again, even if I knew- I'd do it all again, Wendy. Yeah, you were a bitch, but I forgive you."
She smiled, "you're too nice, Max."
"That's a first," he chuckled, "normally it's people calling me a dick..." He turned to look at her, draped an arm over her lap since she was taller than him sitting on top of the hood, "are you okay, Wendy?"
She opened her mouth to answer, then hesitated, and just shrugged, "I'm... You know, figuring it out. I've talked with you, Bella and Vince, so that's a relief, some closure... But now-" she picked on the skin of her thumb and Max frowned, planted his hand over hers to stop her from doing it.
"I missed you, Wendy."
Her eyes darted up, meeting his, the really? so clear in them that it was painful. Max nodded, "yes. Really."
Wendy didn't bother hiding her smile, she touched the tip of her cig against his in a little cigarette kiss and took a drag, "I missed you too, Max... I messed up, I became such a bully... "
"You're not the only one who's messed up in the past," he shrugged, wanting to tell her to not think that everyone else was such a saint and beat herself up.
Wendy nodded, eyes downcast and rolling the cigarette between her fingers, "I know."
Max let out a frustrated groan, feeling like his words weren't getting through her, "can I see you again? I know things won't go back to the way they were but we can be friends, can't we?"
Wendy's eyes searched his face, seeming a little hesitant, "what about Vince-"
"He wouldn't care and even if he did, I don't care," Max said, then let out a groan as his stomach cramped and squeezed his eyes. When he opened then again, Wendy had regained some of herself, she stood a little taller.
"Yes, we can hang out," she patted his cheek, "now let me drive you home."
Sorry for disappearing for months once again. This year has been... a year. But things are better. I am better. The rest of 2026 is fully devoted to my ✨️ mentally stable and thriving era ✨️
But I present you with a Hope/Jay fic. This fic comes with a TRIGGER WARNING. Mentions of Jay's past with bulimia and binge eating (something that hasn't been touched upon since the first few Hope/Jay fics years ago when they were my only OCs). It's not detailed at all, but it is mentioned a few times. If you don't want to/don't think you can read that, then please skip this fic!
As always, no promises on the timeline for the next fic, but it will be another Jay/Hope (a mini fic), and then it will be a Jessie/Kai fic!
Coming home to a quiet house wasn't rare. Hope was use to finding Jay curled up with a book or his laptop, or listening to music with his headphones whilst doing chores even when he was home alone. But coming home to a silent house? That wasn't normal. His car was on the driveway, so he should be home.
"Jay?" She called out, as she stepped out of her shoes in exchange for her slippers. No reply came. Again, not unusual if he was listening to music, but the eerie silence of the house was weird. She even checked her watch, incase she'd magically lost a few hours between leaving work and pulling up at home and Jay could be in bed. But nope, definitely only 6pm.
She moved through the empty living room, Jay's work bag was on the coffee table, so he was definitely home. Or at least he had definitely been home since leaving work. Maybe he'd gone out with Jessie and forgotten to text her. She immediately dismissed that as unlikely because Jay texted her updates about his day consistently.
She continued through into the kitchen, and the second she flicked on the light and took in the room, her heart sank. On the counter was the dish that had contained yesterday's leftover chicken alfredo, enough leftover that they were both having it for dinner tonight. It was empty, practically licked clean. Beside it was not one but two empty ice cream cartons and an empty family size back of M&M's.
It had been a long time since Hope had come home to the aftermath of Jay binge eating. It was common early in their relationship, but with the help of therapy he'd found new coping skills. But uncommon didn't mean never, and sometimes he still slipped up. Apparently, today was one of those days.
She didn’t bother cleaning up, that could wait, instead she moved quickly upstairs to their room. The bed was empty, black satin covers still made up from earlier except for a rumpled spot on Jay's side where he'd clearly sat on the edge. The en-suite light was on. She knocked gently, but didn’t bother to wait for a response before opening the door, they were way past that point in their relationship.
Her heart broke all over again at the sight before her. Jay was curled up on the tiled bathroom floor, head on a towel near the toilet, arms tightly cradling his belly which was bloated enough that she could see a sliver of pale skin between his shirt and pants. Pants that were unbuttoned and unzipped. His eyes met hers, and God, she didn't know her heart could break more. He looked exhausted, sad and pained, eyes wet with unshed tears.
"Oh baby boy." She whispered, crouching down in front on him and running her fingers through his sweaty hair.
"Hope... I... fuck." His voice was gravelly and raw, and she considered maybe his eyes weren't glistening from trying not to cry, but we're wet because he'd already cried. Alone on the bathroom floor. Her own stomach clenched at the thought.
"Shh. No. I know you're about to apologise and I don't want to hear it. You did nothing wrong." She moved from a crouch to fully sitting on the cold ground, shifting Jay gently so his head was tucked in her lap and she continued running her fingers through his hair.
"My stomach hurts so much." His quiet whine tugged at her emotions, and she slipped her other hand under his shirt and over his belly. He was insanely bloated, his usually flat belly domed outwards, especially under his ribs. All of the food must be sitting in his stomach still, meaning she can't have come home long after the binge had happened.
"I know baby. Have you thrown up yet?" She was sure she knew the answer was no judging by just how packed tight his stomach felt under her fingers as she traced gentle circles over it. But she also knew that Jay could have already puked and he was just that full that it hadn't made a difference. And of course, there was that anxiety inducing thought that always tickled the back of her brain when she'd found him after a binge that he'd thrown up by his own hand and that they would be not only facing a binge eating relapse, but one that involved purging too.
"No. But I feel so sick." Jay sighed, burying his face in her thigh.
"I know you do baby. Do you think we can salvage this with some pepto and belly rubs?" She asked despite already knowing the answer.
He shook his head against her, and his belly let out a loud miserable gurgle as if to drive the point home.
"No..." He gulped audibly, "i definitely am going to throw up. But it hasn't happened yet. I just want it over with."
She heard the underlying statement. The fact that he absolutely could have got it over and done with, and was actively choosing to suffer through his nausea and stomach ache. Cementing, whether to her or himself, that he would not allow himself back down that road. She leant forward, pressing a firm kiss against his sweaty temple.
"I am right here. Tell me what you need. Water? More pressure? Me to shut up?" She asked, the last question had Jay turn so she could see his face, and she spotted the ghost of a smirk before it was quickly replaced with a wince.
"Just... talk to me? Tell me about your day. And more pressure, to get things moving, please."
Mission understood. Distraction and belly rubs were something Hope was insanely good at if she did say so herself.
She filled him in on her day, going into every inane interaction and task just to keep the monologue going and stop him from having a free second to dip back into his thoughts. Her hand pressed slightly deeper into his stomach, fingers applying pressure just below his ribs where the majority of the bloating sat.
When she got to telling him what she had for lunch, she made a choice. It was maybe unfair, but she knew that Jay was going to throw up eventually, and if she could help it along faster then she would.
"So, the canteen was serving fancy seafood stuff today. It was gifted by a client as a thank you for our collaboration on their new accounting software. Jay it was amazing, like literally the best seafood I've ever had. I'll take you to their restaurant one day. There was buttered lobster. Lobster Jay. It was so creamy and fresh, honestly the lobster meat just fell apart in my mouth, and god it came with this garlic sauce..." She watched as his face went several shades paler and continued, "and the prawns. Holy shit, they were like the size of my thumb! But they weren't peeled and still had the eyes on, you know how I feel about their beady little black eyes looking at me when im about to eat them."
"Fuc..ughhurpp" Jay jolted up as the gag hit, throwing himself over the toilet just in time to violently heave a large gush of puke into the water.
Hope sighed, gently rubbing his back as the muscles contracted harshly.
"Alright baby, get it up." With her free hand she slowly carded her fingers through his sweaty soaked hair as the next heave had him bringing up a larger, chunky round of sick. Her nose wrinkled at the smell, a mix of stomach acid and now rancid alfredo sauce, and she closed her eyes.
The next few heaves each reduced in quantity of puke before Jay was just dry heaving.
"You're empty Jay. Youre done. Breathe." Hope rested her head against his back, softly peppering his shoulder blade with light kisses. It had the intended affect and Jay relaxed slightly, the heaving moving into panting.
"Fuck." He groaned, spitting into the toilet one last time before flushing, "Fuck. Hope. I am so -"
"-I swear to God Jay, if the next word out of your mouth is sorry I am shoving your head in the toilet and drowning you. Don't. Just don't." She pressed a harder kiss to his shoulder this time before guiding him to sit and wiping his mouth with toilet paper. "You do not need to be sorry. Not for this. Never for this."
His face reddened, pale skin now pink over his cheeks.
"It's embarrassing. I'm embarrassing. Pathetic. How are you not disgusted?" His expression was tight, angry at himself. Hope simultaneously wanted to kiss him and punch him.
"Don't talk about my boyfriend like that." She scolded gently as she ran her thumbs slowly across his cheek bones, "there are many things my boyfriend is. Kind, loving, generous, funny, romantic, sexy as fuck, the list goes on. You know what's not on that list? Embarrassing. Pathetic. Disgusting."
Jay blushed deeper, but lent forward and pressed his forehead into the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, like she could physically hold him together.
"I fucking love you." He murmured, his lips vibrating against her skin.
"I love you too." She kissed the top of his head and held him just a little tighter, breathing in the scent of his hair. They didn't move or speak again for several minutes.
"I need to brush my teeth." Jay finally broke the silence, and Hope released her vice-like grip as he pulled away, standing as he rubbed a hand over his jaw.
"Okay. I'll go get you some water. And maybe some pepto now?" She asked as she also stood, knowing that he needed a few minutes alone to gather himself.
"Please." He replied. His voice was still too quiet. Too sad. She pressed one last kiss to his temple and left the bathroom.
The first thing she did upon entering the kitchen was throw away any evidence of his binge and place the dishes in the dishwasher. He didn't need any extra reminders of what happened. As she filled up a glass from the tap for each of them, she released a sigh, forcing her shoulders to untense. She hated times like these. She felt useless, like all she could do was pick up the fragile pieces.
After grabbing the pepto, she went into the bedroom where Jay was already laying on his back on the bed in just his boxers. His stomach was still bloated, not as tight as before but still definitely rounded.
"Sit up." She instructed as she poured out a dose of pepto.
He took it like a shot, nose crinkling as always at the taste, then lay back down.
Hope quickly changed into one of his tops and crawled into bed beside him, resting her head on his chest and sliding one arm under his back.
"Want me to rub your tummy?" She asked, hand hovering questioningly in the air above his stomach. Usually he would say yes, but sometimes after a binge he would hate having his stomach touched, so she always asked.
"Mmm, please." He exhaled, and she placed her hand flat on his stomach, fingers tenderly stroking the tight skin.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Not knowing what had triggered this was hard for Hope, her type A personality needing all of the information so she could create solutions. So she could fix whatever made the man she would move heaven and earth for so distressed.
He pressed his face against the top of her head, and she could feel his shaky breathing in her hair as he shook his head.
"Not tonight. I just... I just need you." His voice wavered, and she held him tighter.
Seeing 2026 next to Richards name in Marilyn’s introduction was
Also reading the instructions reminded me that when you revealed that John and Luke are actually related, you didn’t have any ideas about how they would find out and I think I wrote an idea for it but you never responded to that ask so I’m wondering if it’s just something you aren’t planning on doing or did it just fall through the cracks or something?
Richard COUNT YOUR DAYS
I don't remember that idea, I think it fell through the cracks 🥺 if you remember can you send it again pls pls pls?
Noo Daniels and Max are two sides of the same coin my head ykwim
He’s Daniels to me when the fic is from someone else’s pov and Max when it’s his, Vin’s or Wendy’s, and recently also Leo’s
Am I making sense 😭
Also I’m not able to send photos still sorry :(🍄
OKay, I opened the submit option, so maybe NOW?? Crossing my fingers
I do see what you mean, I'm mostly joking, don't worry. I think its a lot of fun to track intimacy through how the OCs call each other... Watch this space 🙈
